


The Forest

by MsJody13



Series: Betwixt and Between [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Author is a recluse, Excessive Use of the Word Cock, Holy crap I had to go through the damn thing and change his name, Humor, Lemme know if I missed it anywhere, M/M, Smeels?, Smuff, Smut and Feels, Smut and Fluff, Watch out for the feels, Well I think it's funny, not cannon compliant, you may not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21944098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsJody13/pseuds/MsJody13
Summary: Paz Vizsla's presence on Sorgan was significant.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & Din Djarin, Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Paz Vizla, Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Paz Vizsla, Din Djarin/Paz Vizla, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla, Dyn Jarren/Paz Vizla, The Mandalorian/Paz Vizla
Series: Betwixt and Between [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580050
Comments: 148
Kudos: 686
Collections: Movies, The Mandalorian





	1. The Forest

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows the TV series up to the raiders' defeat on Sorgan. It's not cannon compliant in that Mando doesn't reciprocate Omera's interest because Vizsla reasons. The Mando'a is a little shaky, but everything is translated in text except the word ad'ika because I think most in the fandom know the meaning. So, any inaccuracies with the language shouldn't negatively impact the story. 
> 
> I don't know much about Mandalorian culture and undoubtably it shows. Just go with it. 
> 
> Please enjoy this humble offering of masturbatory fodder.

Din is aware of Paz's arrival at the village without needing visual confirmation. The roar and hiss of his fellow tribesman's (coveted) jet pack is unmistakable. Cara hears it too and rises to her feet from the crate she lounged on, focused and ready to fight. "Mando, do you hear that?"

"Relax. I know him." The bounty hunter speaks evenly, stepping off the barn's wooden deck and into the early afternoon sun, stopping several yards away. The noise draws the attention of the villagers, most choosing to observe from afar with only a brave few cautiously venturing closer. The infantryman touches down behind the barn while Din stands in wait, willing any obvious signs of apprehension out of his frame. Interactions with Paz nearly always involve posturing to some degree and Din's not sure from what point the other Mandalorian intends to pick up. Is he looking to go another round over the camtono of beskar? Or are things good between them now as final events on Navarro seem to imply?

Now, to say Paz Vizsla is a large individual would be a gross underutilization of the word massive. Because he was absolutely massive. Tall, broad, and undeniably solid. Like a sentient, ill-tempered, beskar-clad wall. But with a blaster cannon.

Paz moves slowly, taking deliberate, measured steps as he scans the surroundings. His body language speaks of a man born into battle, a true warrior, the many scars upon his blue armor bearing testament to that. Satisfied with the precursory survey of the village, he turns his attention to Din. With a slight tilt of his head he gives the smaller male the once-over.

"Su cuy'gar! Jate!" _So, you're still alive! Good!_ His tone is commanding but not unfriendly.

Din responds in kind, surprised how much his voice reflects the relief he feels at the proffered greeting. Truthfully, it's a little embarrassing. He takes the first step in closing the distance between them, the two momentarily locking arms hand-to-elbow.

Big, dark eyes watch the exchange with curiosity. The hunter's tiny green sidekick is intrigued with this new Mando, who looks so much like his own, but is completely different at the same time. The little one totters up to the edge of the deck and makes his interest known with an inquiring trill.

Paz turns his head toward the small creature. Another, more pronounced head tilt. "Is that the child?" he asks, his voice softer this time.

"Yes. Come on, I'll introduce you."

Paz notices the closer he and Din get to the barn the more the child's ears perk up. Excited chirps accompany the display as the toddler scampers up a wooden crate, eager to get a closer look.

Cute.

Paz kneels on one knee to be more at the child's eye level, achieving only moderate success. The kid is just so small! He offers his gloved index finger, unaware that Din had once done the same, and the little face lights up in recognition of the gesture. The gleeful child giggles, wrapping his tiny hands around the new Mando's finger and squeezing. Having raised two foundlings of his own, Paz is not surprised his protective instincts kick in at that. The intensity of them, how deeply he feels it in his gut, well…that's something he isn't prepared for.

The little one becomes thoroughly engrossed in examining the warrior's glove, tapping his tiny claws on the armor plate and, much to Din's chagrin, trying to lick it. Paz puts a stop to all saliva-based shenanigans with gentle tummy tickles, leaving the kid sprawled on his back and giggle-gasping for air.

Din finds himself smiling broadly at the wholesome display. He silently commits every detail to memory.

Cara observes the armored men with sharp eyes. Outwardly her expression is one of amusement but internally she is critically analyzing everything. There is something in the way the two Mandalorians share space that speaks of a deeper connection, but one she can't quite name. Filing it away for later she spares a glance at Omera who appeares to be doing some interpreting of her own. Whatever conclusion the young widow arrives at brings a sad smile her face.

The child's brave but losing battle against the tickle monster comes to an abrupt halt when his stomach makes a far-too-big-for-his-body rumble. Din sighs, gently rubbing a chubby green cheek with his thumb. He speaks in a voice low and fond, "You're always hungry, ad'ika." He pauses his ministrations briefly at the utterance of such a profound word, _ad'ika_. It's his first time speaking it aloud.

This does not go unnoticed by Paz.

Omera, completely unaware of the magnitude of the situation, speaks up. "I'll go get--"

"What does the child eat?" The burly Mandalorian rises to his full height, making him nearly a head taller than the child's flustered guardian.

The unplanned declaration leaves Din feeling unsure and exposed. He can't bring himself to look anywhere but down at, well, _his ad'ika_ , who is cooing loudly from the attention. "Frogs. Whole, live."

Paz walks with purpose to the water's edge, the villagers wisely giving him a wide berth. He fires a grappling line from his vambrace into the rushes and with a flick of his wrist it retracts, having ensnared a fat purple frog. He disentangles the loudly protesting meal as he makes his way back to the barn. Once there he offers it up to Din for approval as the hungry toddler makes soft, impatient grunts.

"Cuyir vor'liser." _It is acceptable._

Paz hands over the squirming frog to the eager child who happily gulps it down in one go.

Din hears an uncharacteristic chuff from Paz. "Gar ad guur' skraan." _Your child loves his food_.

"Yes," he agrees. To all of it.

The kid burps loudly.

Another chuff. "It's obvious the child has been spending time with you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two Mandalorians leave the village and enter the forest. The kid is safe with Omera and Vizsla's jetpack and blaster cannon are stowed in the barn under Cara's watchful eye. Din claimed they were going to go 'walk the perimeter' because he really couldn't say "Me and the beefy Mando need to go have a talk about how he just made a very public display declaring his intent to act as provider to my kid."

This was big. This was serious. This was more than the typical Paz posturing. Because by coming here, searching him and the kid out, well, that meant Paz couldn't go back to wherever the covert was now. Maybe never. The risk was just too high. That made Paz's presence on Sorgan…significant.

Once out of the village proper, Paz breaks the silence, choosing to speak in Mando'a. "I'm not picking up any heat signatures of consequence. We're alone. We can talk freely about anything you wish to discuss."

Din takes a deep breath and continues the conversation in their native tongue. "Well, there's a lot of ground to cover." He wonders if Paz even understands the full gravity of the situation. How much does he actually know about the client? Is he aware of just how ridiculously hefty the bounty is on them? He makes the decision to tell Paz everything. The supposed age of the 'asset'. Shooting the IG droid to save the kid's life. The Jawas. How the child levitated a fucking mudhorn…He tells him everything. Paz deserves to be fully informed and if he decides to take his leave after hearing it all, then so be it.

Paz is silent while Din talks. He places a firm hand on his shoulder in support as they move deeper into the forest.

"And now…here we are," Din's voice is rough with emotion as he ends his tale. He did not realize how cathartic it would be to tell someone or how badly he needed to get everything off his chest.

Paz stops and faces Din, taking the smaller male's hand in his own and turning it palm up. Paz smooths small circles into the leather with his thumb, slowly working his way toward the glove's cuff. He pauses for a moment giving the other the opportunity to refuse his advances. When no protest comes, he slides a finger under Din's vambrace, pulling the leather back and caressing the pulse point of the now-bare wrist. Paz's touch sends sparks down Din's spine. The sensation pools warm and low in his gut and his face flushes with want.

Paz tilts his head in such a way that he would be looking Din in the eye if they were without helmets. "I have a long memory, a short fuse, and a sharp tongue." The warrior's voice is low, contrite. "On Navarro, I may not have cut you with my blade, but I did wound you, nonetheless. Deeply, with my words. And for that I am remorseful." He removes his own gloves, steps into Din's space and cups the nape of his duraweave-covered neck with a large, warm hand. "I was blinded with hatred for the Imperials and..." he swallows thickly, "and I feared for your safety. I still do. But I never thought for a moment you had abandoned The Way."

Din rests his head on a battle-worn blue pauldron as overwhelming, unfamiliar emotions wash over him. Paz kneads his neck and holds him steady at the waist. He takes a shaky breath, pulling his gloves off as well and pressing his hands flat against the chest plate of the larger male's armor. In response Paz covers Din's bare hands with his own and gently touches his forehead to Din's. Their helmets make a soft clink as they meet.

"Din Djarin, it would be an honor to protect the child with you. How much or little you want me involved, it's all of your choosing. I'm not going anywhere."

They stand together in silence, hands roaming freely, seeking out any expanse not covered by hard metal. Din's heart beats soundly in his ears, his pulse quickening and his skin growing warm. He's fully erect when Paz grabs his ass and pulls their bodies flush. He emits a long, wanton moan from the pressure against his cock.

Paz backs Din into an immense, moss-covered tree. "You sound incredible when you're aroused, sweetheart." Lacing their fingers together, he pins the smaller male's hands against the pitted bark on either side of his head. Paz slides his thick thigh between Din's legs and begins a torturously slow grind against his crotch. Beneath his helmet Din closes his eyes, soft, rhythmic gasps escaping his lips. He squeezes Paz's hands in time with each press of the larger male's powerful body. He is quickly nearing completion.

"If you don't stop, I'm going to come in my suit." His words breathless and strained.

"Don't worry, love, I won't let that happen."

Paz moves Din's hands, positioning them above his head and holding them in firmly place. The action makes Din feel vulnerable, completely at the mercy of the other Mandalorian. Another bolt of arousal shoots through him, causing a cascade of shivers across his shoulders and down his back. Standing in this way makes him acutely aware of just how much bigger Paz is. He likes it. That, coupled with Paz's overt show of strength, makes Din's cock throb with need.

Paz's free hand makes quick work of Din's belt. One fluid motion has him unzipping the bounty hunter's pants and snaking his hand past the waistband where he squeezes the head of Din's rock-hard cock. The action pulls Din back from the verge of orgasm and adds to the helplessness he feels. He moans and struggles under Paz's grip.

"Shhhh, shhhh. I'm going to make this so very good for you, I promise. So good." Paz liberates Din's rigid, swollen member from his trousers. "Oh, look at you. You're perfect. Are you watching, sweetheart? I want you to watch as I stroke your perfect cock." Hearing such sweet and filthy words quickly propells Din back to the edge. He looks down as Paz's long, thick fingers wrap around him, stimulating him from base to tip over and over. Paz uses the slippery precome milked from his enraptured partner to liberally coat his large, calloused palm.

"I want you to fuck my fist now. Can you do that for me, sweetheart? I want to see you make yourself come."

Din vigorously thrusts into Paz's hand, his body even more sensitive with the knowledge the other is watching. The slick and pop of his cock pushing into Paz's firm, heated grip is both obscene and erotic, fueling the fire low in his gut.

"Mmmm….you're doing so good. Just like that. Perfect. Come when you need to, love. Just let it happen." Paz's voice is deep and husky, clearly enjoying the show. Din shudders at the realization, his movements becoming erratic. His head is thrown back, rolling from side to side as he gasps in pleasure.

"Paz…Paz…please. _Please._ "

"Alright, easy now. Everything will be alright. I'll get you there."

Paz's hand resums moving up and down the length of Din's cock. The added stimulation has him climaxing almost immediately, his entire body spasming in the throes of blinding ecstasy. His head falls forward onto Paz's chest, calling his name in a breathless keen. Paz holds him fast against the tree continuing to slide his slickened fist over Din's pulsing cock, only relenting once he's completely spent and his legs buckle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Din resurfaces from the heady haze of endorphins, he finds himself sitting on the forest floor nestled against Paz. His gloves are in place and his belt fastened. The warrior has one arm around his waist with his other resting casually on his bent knee. He notices Paz has donned his gloves as well.

"How are you doing?'" Paz speaks softly and draws Din closer.

"Really, _really_ good _._ What about you? Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I want you on your back, writhing under me." Din's cock twitches with interest at Paz's words. "But not now. I will take you later. Properly, not here in the dirt." And with that Paz tenderly nuzzles Din's helmet with his own.

They are soon on their way back to the village where a green baby with big ears is impatiently waiting for his Mandos to return.

~ fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. It really means the world to me that you liked it enough to read until the end.
> 
> I am truly impressed with the number of excellent writers that are contributing some seriously high-quality content to our fandom. Thank you for writing
> 
> Stop by and say hi to me on tumblr and twitter @msjody1313!


	2. Checkbox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows Din is aware of what needs done, but will allow the hunter to voice it in his own time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't planned on writing another chapter, but what was to be a steamy one-shot turned into a continuation when I wasn't looking. I've decided to split it in two separate updates because it's getting quite lengthy. Also, I no longer have internet at home so I did this with voice to text on my phone. Please let me know if there's any glaring mistakes I didn't catch.
> 
> As a side note, I've come to the realization that my life will not be complete until I see fanart of our little green bean wearing a onesie that says "Daddy's Little Womp Rat." Or, alternatively, "Buir's Little Womp Rat." I'm not picky.
> 
> Enjoy!

"Your ship, the Razor Crest...it's pre-Empire which, granted, has its benefits, but it is also a model rarely seen in operation. That, plus your modifications, draws attention. Makes it easy to spot when you make port." Paz leans against the wall, looking out the window of the barn, ever vigilant and hyper-aware. It's dark now, the village beginning to wind down. Mothers can be heard calling their children in for the night as illuminations dance across the grass from numerous flickering lanterns.

"That bastard Karga included specs on your ship with your puck. For both exterior _and_ interior "

Din sits bolt upright in his chair at the news. "That asshole is alive? I thought I killed him." The bounty hunter growls, "And how the fuck did he get specs on the interior of my ship?"

This is bad. Very bad.

Sitting on a cot in the corner of the room, the little green baby chitters contently, totally absorbed in playing with several small wooden blocks the color of the frog Paz caught earlier. Paz walks over, tapping one of the blocks, "Saviin." _Violet_. He draws out the pronunciation, "Sah-veen." With a happy chirp the kid gifts him one of the purple blocks. Okay, not the result he was looking for, but he accepts the toy anyway and slips it into one of the pouches on his utility belt. Paz returns to his spot at the window. He knows Din is aware of what needs done, but will allow the hunter to voice it in his own time.

Beneath his helmet Din wears a look of weary resignation. He sits forward on the chair, elbows on knees, head hanging low. He sighs, defeated. "I'll ditch the Crest. Destroy it, blow it to pieces, to the point even the damn Jawas wouldn't bother with it." He stretches and cracks his neck. "Just gotta figure out how to make that happen."

"My ship can handle it," Paz said.

"Umm...you sure about that?" Another crack. Well, more of a crunch, really.

"The last ship I piloted, the one you remember, could not. However, the ship I acquired after the covert abandoned Navarro is very capable. It is larger, faster, and has more firepower than my former ship and your Razor Crest."

A nod. "Alright. Sounds good." Contrary to his words, Din's body language said everything is, in fact, not good. At all.

Paz closes the window blind and lets down the curtain in the doorway. "Turn the chair around and straddle it."

Din complies.

Paz removes his gloves, tosses them aside, and slides his big, warm hands under Din's cloak, kneading the smaller man's shoulders and working his thumbs into the muscles of his upper back. Din rests his head on his folded arms and groans with pleasure-pain as Paz works out the knots.

"Other than your weapons, what do you need to get from the Razor Crest?" Paz's voice is soft, comforting.

"Not much." Din yawns, the tension along his spine finally beginning to subside.

Like most of his Creed, Din lived and traveled light. His personal belongings are few, the majority currently being on his physical person. The Crest has few parts compatible with Paz's Starhunter series vessel and are definitely not worth the time or effort needed to salvage them. Din figures everything---weapons and ammo, rations, miscellaneous supplies---would fit in three transport trunks which two men could move easily.

"When was the last time you flew a pack?" Paz asked.

As part of the education all Mandalorian children receive, Din was taught how to operate a jetpack as an adolescent. Now, as a bounty hunter, he had to be fleet of foot, physically flexible, and able to throw a punch unencumbered. A jetpack would be a hindrance and as such he hadn't used one since before joining the Guild.

"I can still get off the ground."

"That will have to do." Paz squeezes Din's shoulders one last time. "In the morning I will bring you one from the Starhunter. Once you reach your ship I will send you my coordinates. Land the Razor Crest as near as possible and we will make the transfer."

Did nods in agreement.

"You should sleep, sweetheart. Being on the run has taken its toll, your movements are sluggish."

Din motions toward the little one. "He still has a couple of hours before I can put him down."

"I will occupy him while I'm on watch and put him to bed. Get some sleep. Gar shuk meh hyrayc." _You're no use dead._

Paz gathers up the toddler and toys while Din removes his boots plus various elements of armor and weaponry, but not all. Even with the other Mandalorian present he can't relax completely, though tonight is the closest he's been in a very long time. He slips into unconsciousness listening to Paz's deep, familiar voice speaking softly in Mando'a to the child, retelling the story of Mand'alore the First and the conquering of the Mythosaur.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paz wakes him as he is leaving to fetch the jetpack from the Starhunter.

"You shouldn't have let me sleep the entire night, Paz. Did you sleep at all?"

"Do not be concerned, my need for sleep differs from yours." He leans over and taps his helmet against Din's. "I will be back within the hour."

Somewhere in the back of his mind Din knows Paz has more than just his heavy infantry gear, yet the warrior's appearance when he returns still causes the hunter to look twice. Paz wears his signature blue armor from the waist up but shed his heavy thigh and shin guards in favor of beskar plates affixed to the front of black trousers and tall boots. His vambraces are of a more streamlined design, both equipped with whistling birds. A blaster hangs on his left hip and a beskad saber on his right. The change in attire does nothing to diminish the warrior's imposing mass. From behind his visor Din unabashedly rakes his eyes over the larger male's muscular thighs shifting under the thick, well-fitted fabric as he approaches. 

Paz hands the jetpack to Din as they step inside the barn. "Emuurir meg gar haa'taylir, cyar'ika?" _Like what you see, sweetheart?_

Din's face bursts into flames under his helmet. Realistically, he's suffered more grievous injuries. Ignoring the question, he slips the jetpack on, not needing to adjust it. "It fits exceptionally well. I was expecting your spare to be much too big."

"I did not say it was a spare." Paz plucks the child from his crib, holding him in the crook of his arm. "Has this one eaten?"

"Yeah, he's eaten." Din's head tilts in confusion. "What do you mean it's not a spare?"

"The Armorer has your measurements from forging your cuirass. She crafted the jetpack at my request."

Wow, that was...wow. A small knot forms in Din's throat. "Cuyir vor'liser." _It is acceptable._

Paz produces a small pouch from his utility belt, pulling out something pink and leafy. When offered, the child bites into it without hesitation. The excess hangs from his mouth, giving the appearance of a large, dangling tongue. The baby nuzzles against Paz, making appreciative purring noises.

"What did you give him?"

"Blooming scushibi petal." He rubs the baby's fuzzy green head. "It's sweet and chewy." 

"You're going to spoil the kid, Vizsla."

"This is the Way." A grin is evident in the warrior's voice.

Din chuffs at Paz's uncharacteristic playfulness. "Omera says there's a storm on the way. We should get started."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Transferring everything to the Starhunter did not take long, the storm rolling in with surprising speed as they load the last bin onto Paz's ship. Thick bolts of jagged lightning travel between the clouds, reaching toward the ground, landing with deafening cracks followed by palpable thunder. They stay aboard Paz's ship to wait out the storm, it now being too dangerous to operate their jetpacks.

Paz shows Din around the ship as the rain falls outside. It's not as cramped as the Razor Crest, not exactly spacious mind you, but definitely more room to breathe, and accommodating for the kid would be an easy task. After storing Din's weapons and other items brought over from his ship, he and Paz relocate to the front of the vessel. The cockpit is designed for two pilots and one passenger, though only a single pilot is needed to fly. Paz explains that the passenger seat could quickly be altered to secure a baby carrying harness or pod, and begins those modifications while Din familiarizes himself with the control panel.

Staring out the window, not looking at anything particular, Din sighs, disheartened. Losing the Razor Crest will strip away the last modicum of autonomy he possesses. His brain helpfully reminds him that he really doesn't have much freedom to lose anyhow considering he and the kid have such large bounties on their heads. 

Thanks, stupid brain.

Loyalty to the Tribe and following the Way takes precedence, but Din Djarin is also a fiercely independent man, molding what he can of his world by his own hands. Now recent events are forcing him to redefine who he is on a core level. He feels disconnected and lost, like he's observing his life from the outside.

As if Paz could sense Din's quickly escalating internal crisis, he takes the seat next to him, placing his bare hand atop Din's gloved one and squeezing. Din finds himself immediately grounded by the contact. Paz's touch feels familiar in a way that should be too soon to happen. 

A dozen or so years ago, Paz arrived at the covert, unannounced, his beskar wet with blood. Only the Amorer knew him, appeared to be expecting him. Din was curious about the enigmatic warrior no one seemed to know, yet somehow had a room reserved and waiting for him at the covert. His multiple inquiries only resulted in vague references to Paz's 'great contributions' to the tribe, but were void of any real information on the man or his deeds.

Paz cornered him one day, calling out his snooping and berating him for not approaching him directly. He'd gotten less than an inch from Din's visor, "When I return, we _will_ have a proper conversation about this." The conversation did indeed happen, and while Paz wasn't exactly amicable during the exchange, his hostility towards Din had lessened considerably. The warrior made it clear that continuing to pry into his activities up top would not be well received, so Din wisely took the hint and dropped his investigations. From that point on interactions with Paz were mostly civil, at times bordering on cordial, even with Paz's general crankiness and apparent need to be the alpha in the room whenever Din was around.

Roughly three years ago something changed. Paz's demeanor became more that of a comrade and less of an antagonist. He rarely left the covert and his posturing grew increasingly...flirtatious? The shift left Din befuddled and distracted. Made his stomach do strange things. Conveniently, rounding up bounties kept him much too preoccupied to examine any of it very closely. He now recognizes it for what it was: a preface to courting. However, the current situation differs from the past in that Paz Vizsla is _actively_ courting him and, evidently, he's totally and enthusiastically on board with it.

Fuck, he wants this man! When the hell did that happen??

Din removes his gloves and laces their fingers together, bringing their intertwined hands closer to his visor and studying Paz's larger, definitely-not-human extremity. His skin is a deep, cool red, the color of Mandalorian wine, with a barely visible purple iridescence. Each of his five fingers are tipped with short, blunt nails of a darker color, almost black. The skin of his palm is less uniform, a mottling of faded reds on white. It is a warrior's hand and as such bears many scars and calluses. Din traces each mark with a feather-light touch, deriving a sense of satisfaction when the skin erupts in goosebumps. Mimicking Paz's actions from the day before, he begins caressing the larger male's pulsepoint. Paz growls softly in response.

Species has no bearing on being accepted into Mandalorian society. Many are foundlings like Din, originating from multiple planets, and what an individual looks like under their helm is insignificant. Prior to their time together in the forest, Din was completely unaware that he and Paz are, well, different. The newly acquired knowledge checks boxes Din didn't even know he had.

Paz leans into Din's space, placing a hand on his knee. "Before I take you to bed, and I very much want to take you to bed _right now_ , is this your first time as bottom? Have you been with someone of another species?"

Well, that got Din's attention.

"Not my first time and yeah, only with other humans." Din isn't a virgin in any sense of the word, but he could count his total number of sexual encounters on one hand. He is feeling terribly under-experienced.

Paz kneads the inside of Din's thigh just above the knee. "Hmmm...I see." He sounds pleased, the approval sending a tingle down Din's spine. Paz places his hand on Din's neck, slipping his fingers under the edge of his helmet, finding where his cowl ends and skin begins. He tangles his fingers in the longish hair at Din's nape and pulls. Din gasps, digging his nails into the seat cushion.

Paz brings their visors together with a soft clink. "Before we proceed, you need to understand I don't fuck like you, sweetheart." He nuzzles his helmet against Din's. "Our bodies differ and for a human the experience can be very...intense."

Din swallows thickly, his mouth suddenly dry. "What do you mean?"

"I can manipulate the shape of my cock. The length, girth, texture. Control how it moves." Paz splays his hand across Din's abdomen at the edge of his cuirass. "And coming does not mean stopping."

It takes several moments for Din's mind to fully process Paz's words.

"Wait. Are you saying--oh. Ohhhh." His semi-erect cock grows painfully hard at the implications, perspiration forming on his upper lip and along his hairline.

Paz slowly guides Din's head back and, grabbing his hip, pushes him firmly into the seat. He surveyes the hunter's body, eyeing the sizable tent in Din's trousers, enjoying how the smaller male squirms under the scrutiny. Paz tightens his grip in Din's hair and increases the downward pressure on his hip, causing the hunter to emit a delicious, lustful moan at being restrained.

"Mmmmm...you are so responsive, sweetheart. So fuckable. So perfect."

Behind his visor Paz licks his lips, smirking. _Oh, this is going to be fun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo-hooo! Our boys are moving in together!!! And ooooh, Paz is so mysterious! Bet you'd like to know what that's all about, huh? Well, you're not the only one 'cuz I have no idea where all that came from or where it's going.
> 
> Many, many thanks for all the kind words and kudos. They feed my soul and make me smile. 
> 
> I made up the name of Paz's ship, the Starhunter. If that already exists in the Star Wars universe, please let me know. Also, 'scushibi' is the word 'hibiscus,' just jumbled up a bit. If you've never had Trader Joe's candied hibiscus petals, they are stupid good. Sweet and tart heaven. Beskad sabers, on the other hand, are actually cannon.
> 
> Lastly, does anyone else have a headcannon where Paz isn't human?
> 
> Stop by and say hi to me on tumblr and twitter @msjody1313!


	3. Coalesce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The privilege makes the warrior's heart feel too large in his chest, no longer able to contain the desire and affection within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to get to you. I've been having some mental health issues and my motivation has been nonexistent. Many thanks for MissTeaVee for inspiring me to get this posted. I highly recommend you take a look at their Mando fics--good stuff.

It's cool and quiet in the lower level of the ship, the only light in the small sleeping chamber shining faintly from a single recessed fixture above the pull-down platform bed. In a bewildering show of trust Din allows Paz to divest him of his weapons, the privilege making the warrior's heart feel too large in his chest, no longer able to contain the desire and affection within. Armor and clothing are shed without urgency, caresses linger, the two finding no need to rush. 

"Impressive." Paz traces the newer scar on Din's bicep acquired on Arvala-7, then continues mapping out other raised and discolored patches on his chest, stomach, and back. Din's body is lithe and lean, his muscles sinewy and sharply defined. Paz feels the strength stored there, gives an appreciative hum as he drags his nails across Din's shoulder blades, down his sides, hands coming to rest on the hunter’s hips. 

Din surveys Paz’s body, intrigued and aroused by the warrior’s physique. Standing a full head taller, Paz is all muscle and bulk.The disparity in size between them causes Din’s mouth to water and his skin to ignite. Never before has Din seen flesh so pale, white as the towering drifts of Hoth, and surprisingly supple. Paz’s feet are the same wine-colored flesh as his hands, the hue fading into mist-like wisps on his snowy thighs and biceps. The same mottling present on Paz's palms spreads across his broad shoulders and pectorals, continuing up the sides of his neck and disappearing under the edge of his helm. A light smattering of the pattern wraps around Paz’s hips leading to the junction between his legs. His body is completely devoid of hair, which, yeah, checks another box for Din. He skims his hands over Paz's milky, well defined chest and abdomen, feeling the rough, uneven texture of countless battle scars, though no discoloration is present. 

"My body does not chronicle battle as exquisitely as does yours." Paz purrs, digging his nails into Din's hip. "Your flesh bears the marks of an accomplished fighter. Very enticing." 

The praise causes a wave a heat through Din's body, the warmth settling in his groin and chest. 

"Your body is incredible." Din runs his fingers along the underside of the warrior's rigid member. Paz is larger than he, less veiny, nearly smooth. Din slides his fist downward over the shaft, then up again, watching as Paz's cock grows darker from the stimulation, the bulbous head turning the same shade of red-wine as his hands. His grip on Din's hip tightens each time the hunter's fingers slip over the tip, grunts increasing in volume with each stroke. 

Din speaks just above a whisper, his words sounding more unsure than he would like. "So, what you said earlier about…"  


Paz gathers Din in his arms, embracing him firmly, rubbing circles into the small of his back. He brings their helmets together with a soft clink. 

"Don't worry, love, not going to hurt you. Would never hurt you." Paz's voice is low and rough with arousal. "First, I'm going to loosen you up, spread you open with my fingers, nice and slow and wide. Take my time preparing you for my cock.” 

Paz places his hand over Din's heart. It's warm, reassuring. 

"Now, if I have your consent, I'd like to lay you down and make you scream." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to his words, preparations are meticulous, and, in Din's opinion, go on far longer necessary. He's going a little mad from the not-quite-enough stimulation and shamelessly resorts to begging. 

"Fuck, Paz. Now. I want your cock inside me now. _Please_ ," he said in breathy desperation. 

Moving with surprising speed, Paz kneels between Din’s legs and slicks himself with lube. "Alright, sweetheart, I’m going to enter you now. Keeping the lights on--need to watch the first time you take my cock. Need see how your body moves when you come with me buried inside you." He slips his hands under Din's hips, pulls him close and slides into him with one long, smooth stroke. His arms wrap around Din’s thighs, hugging them tightly against his chest. “Fuck, Din, you feel amazing. I’m going to enjoy making you come on my cock. As many times as you can take it.” 

A low,prolonged moan escapes Din's lips as he's breached. “Ahhh…Paz…feel so good inside me.” He grips the sheets as waves pleasure, hot and electric, shoot up his spine. Immobilized from the waist down, Din squirms against Paz's hold, only to be trapped more firmly between the press of thick, muscular thighs. He's helpless, captured, completely at the mercy of the larger, stronger male. It leaves him painfully erect and trembling with need. 

Paz tightens his hold on Din's legs. "Gonna fill you up. Fill you up all the way. Just relax, sweetheart."

Din gasps, Paz's hot, hard cock stirring within him, increasing in length and thickness, penetrating him in every way possible. Din's mind is reeling. He's never been so thoroughly taken, Paz claiming him on an intimately primal level. He whimpers in surrender as the member continues to engorge. 

"Breathe, love, don't forget to breathe. Just a little more, you're doing so good." Paz's voice is tender, his tone conveying care and concern. "You feel amazing on my cock. I want you to come hard, don't hold back." 

Moving with a slick pulse and slide, Paz's cock begins rhythmically undulating and thrusting inside his heated partner, the warrior's body remaining motionless otherwise. The pleasure is nearly unbearable for Din, sending him over the edge just moments into their coupling, body arching off the bed and head thrown back in a guttural, stuttering moan.

Paz's hold on Din's thighs remains steady, keeping their bodies flush and him nestled deep inside. The pressure on Din's prostate causes his body to spasm with aftershocks as he recovers from climaxing. "You're perfect," Paz said, taking his hand through the ejaculate coating Din's stomach and rubbing it in with deliberate, circular motions. "Absolutely perfect. Your body, the way it moves, how you feel inside. Everything about you is perfect." He unceremoniously smacks the small control panel on the wall throwing the room into pitch-black darkness. The sharp, metallic thump of Paz's helmet hitting the floor is immediate, Din likewise removing his own and shoving it against the wall toward the far corner of the bed. 

Paz is on him, hands sliding up his torso to his neck, then framing his face. He runs a thumb along Din's stubbled jaw and having found his mark, presses their lips together fervently. He explores Din's face as they kiss, gently gliding long, calloused fingers over his eyebrows, nose, and combing them through his hair. 

Panting heavily, Paz whispers to him between kisses, "Your hair, eyes. What color are they? Tell me, Din. Please." 

Equally breathless, Din responds, "Brown, both brown." 

"Perfect." Paz seals their mouths together, kisses Din deeply and runs his longer-than-human tongue along the roof of his mouth, eliciting a dirty, whimpering moan from the prostrate hunter. Paz slides his hands under Din’s arms, taking a firm hold of his shoulders and tucking the lean form beneath his own, wedging the sweat-slick body tightly against his hips. 

Paz pushes up against his ear, breath hot, voice raspy, “I’ve wanted you for so long, just like this. Under me, willing and hungry.” He places light kisses on Din’s temple, cheek, and forehead. “Wrap yourself around me and hold on, sweetheart. I'm going to fuck you. _Properly_ **.”**

He succumbs to his second orgasm writhing beneath Paz, pressed fully into the mattress, the warrior resting just enough of his considerable bulk atop Din to restricthis enraptured flailing. "You're not going anywhere, I'm not finished with you yet, " Paz growls, pinning him down more forcefully. Lust burns in Din's veins, fueled by Paz's demonstration of power and dominance. Peaking in bliss he cries out, convulsing with unfettered ecstasy, keening his throat raw with Paz's name on his lips. 

Passion surges through Paz’s entire being, Din’s spasming body pushing him toward swift completion. "So close, love. I'm going to come inside you, make you so wet and full." He shudders and moans, spilling deep within the tight, heated core sheathing his cock.

Din feels Paz's release pooling low and hot in his belly, accompanied by a profound sense of gratification. His breathing starts to pick up again, his wrecked body remaining responsive to the push and roll of harness inside him. He digs his nails into the heavy, muscular frame above and whimpers.

"Stars Din, you are such a sweet fuck." Paz rumbles next to his ear, clamping down on his neck where it meets his shoulder and biting hard.

Din feels teeth break skin, the pain shocking him to orgasm and, maybe, just maybe, he blacks out for a bit

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He comes to with a solid weight at his back. It's Paz curled around him, kissing his neck and nuzzling into his hair. He's sleepy, a little too warm, and so very, very sticky. He rolls over on his back, relishing the soreness he feels. It's not true discomfort, just a reminder of their enthusiastic activities.The darkness surrounding them is absolute.

Paz presses their lips together, the action gentle yet full, heartfelt, an affirmation of their connection and not meant to arouse. "Are you ok?" he asks.

"Yes," Din answers simply, cupping the back of Paz's neck and pulling him down for another kiss. He runs his fingers through Paz's thick, coarse hair, thumbing the stubble at his temples and around the back of his head where it's clipped close, the length top lays to one side and ohhhh…Paz has pointy ears. (Damn! Din had no idea he had so many fetishes!) Like the rest of his body, Paz's prominent jaw as well as his upper lip are hairless and a deep, curving scar runs along his left cheekbone. If Din had to guess, Paz was the older of the two. Now, what was that about fetishes?

He reluctantly breaks the kiss. "So, what about you? What color are your hair and eyes?"

"Well, my hair is white," Paz said, pulling Din onto his chest. "But my eye color changes. Blue, purple, red…combinations thereof. I have to be experiencing very intense emotions for that to occur, so more often than not they are the usual black."

Din hummed in contemplation, trying to craft a mental image of Paz with this new information. He smiled broadly. Paz, _his cyar'ika._ With that revelation unfamiliar emotions coalesced, forming something warm and comforting, equal parts affection, trust, and loyalty. This new, fragile thing between them promptly burrowed into Din’s chest, digging in deep and filling a void he had gone great lengths to ignore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And here's some incredible alien Paz fanart from the wonderful [Skittydolly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittydolly)! She is a great artist _and_ writer. Check out her Paz/Din fics and give her some love!

[ ](https://i.imgur.com/GI1hjcQ.png)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't have any particular species in mind when writing Paz, so if any similarities exist between him and other non-human characters it's is purely coincidence. 
> 
> I definitely feel that this story has more to tell, but I can't commit to any kind of posting schedule right now because school, two jobs, and reasons. I hope you understand.
> 
> Thank you ever so much for reading. It means the world to me that you liked it enough to read until the end. I appreciate every kudo, comment, and bookmark. *blows a kiss*
> 
> Stop by and say hi to me on tumblr and twitter @msjody1313!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you ever so much for reading. It means the world to me that you liked it enough to read until the end. I have some other ideas that I may end up posting. I can't promise anything because school owns me.
> 
> I'm really enjoying seeing this fandom grow. There are some exceptionally talented writers in it.


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